


His Little Bird

by hetalia_textbook



Series: His Little Bird Series [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetalia_textbook/pseuds/hetalia_textbook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Russia had once held a fondness for birds, but as a child he had a hard time coming to terms with how his flighty little friends met their ends. As he grew older, he remained unable to control his more violent behaviors and he feared for those held dear. America reminded him of these fragile creatures more than Russia would like to admit. He worried for America's safety the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ivan had always hated birds. Actually no, that was a lie. He had liked birds once, but they died too quickly and their tiny wings broke too easily. He never meant to hurt them. Ivan loved animals, yet they didn’t seem to like him.

He should have known it would be so fragile. The small dead bird was cupped in his tiny hands. It was nearly frozen, yet its feathers still felt soft against his numbed fingers. Ivan buried his chilled nose in the scarf his sister had given to him the day before. His eyes burned with unshed tears and his tiny hands trembled in distress and cold. Ivan hadn’t meant for it to die. He had just been so happy when the bird had taken tiny nibbles from the thrown out loaf of bread he had found. No one ever wanted to be his friend, but this bird had finally proven that he wasn’t as bad as all the other children said.

Ivan had always watched from the sidelines as children played. They never wanted to talk to him and if he came too close they’d run away and scream. It was like almost a game to them. He had felt so alone and keeping the bird as a friend hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea. However, it hadn’t gone as planned.

Many of the birds began to migrate for warmer weather. Ivan didn’t want to lose his new friend and kept the small bird from flying away. He hadn’t realized that the cold could hurt it. “I hate you!” Ivan cried and tossed the small bird into the snow. Ivan sniffled and sat down. He cried and sobbed until another small child joined him in the snow. “Ew,” the child scrunched up their nose and poked the dead bird with the toe of their shoe, “Did you kill it?”

“N-No,” Ivan whimpered, “I-It was m-my friend,”

“You’re so disgusting,” the other child took a step back, “You play with dead things and kill them?” Ivan tearfully tried to explain, but the other child didn’t seem very keen to listen to him. Soon enough the other child ran away in disgust and left Ivan alone with the dead bird he had killed.

—

Ivan hated birds.

He sat in front of the cage, staring at the small lifeless creature, as if his stare could somehow reverse the effects that had taken the life of the fragile thing. He didn’t cry, not this time. He had cried over enough dead things in his life time. It did hurt though, because he knew it was his fault. Who else’s could it be?

Alfred had given him the bird as a gift from a few years ago. Ivan had been confused when Alfred had placed the small carrier on his coffee table and showed him the parakeet he had purchased. It was cute. It’s yellow and green feathers reminded him of spring time and its soft chirps sounded like bells. He had refused to hold it.

Alfred had left the parakeet in Ivan’s care, believing he needed a friend too keep him company while the younger nation was back home. Ivan didn’t have the heart to tell him that he hated it. He should have told Alfred to take it back. If he had, it wouldn’t have been dead now.

“I’m back!” Alfred called as he entered Ivan’s home and slammed the door behind him, “Man, it’s a blizzard out there,”

Alfred stepped into the living room, his snow boots tracking melting snow on the floor boards. He greeted Ivan with a kiss to the top of his head and began removing his coat. When Alfred laid eyes on the motionless bird, he stopped. “Oh man,” he sighed, “The birdie’s dead?” Ivan had never gotten around to naming the thing. Naming it meant he had formed an attachment. Attachment meant killing it.

“Da,” Ivan whispered, “Он мертв,”

“Aw, well…” Alfred thought over his next few words as he pulled off his gloves and kicked off his boots, “We can always get another one,”

“Nyet…”

“Why not? Did you like that one too much?”

“Nyet…”

“Then why-?”

“I hate this little bird. Too fragile. Too small. Too… I am too… I kill it,” He seemed to lose various words as the English language slipped from his mind in his distress. This wasn’t visible from the outside, but on the inside he felt as though his heart was pounding hard enough to break its way past his ribcage.

“You killed the bird?” Alfred looked at the cage and shook his head, “No, you didn’t. Birds get sick or old. They hide illnesses pretty well. They just die sometimes and their owners have no idea why,”

Ivan clenched his fists on his knees and took in a deep breath. Something in Alfred’s words was comforting. Learning he might have not been a direct cause in the small bird’s death made him feel just a little better, but the overwhelming feeling of regret and dread of being the cause were persistent. He had always killed them. Each bird had been too fragile. They’re wings were broken in his tiny fingers, necks snapped when he held them too close. Ivan hugged too tightly, played too roughly, held on too strongly, touched too callously, hit too violently, and spoke too chillingly. He feared his own strength and the ways he treated others. He was the reason Ravis cowered away from larger people. He was the reason Toris had scars running down his back. He was the reason Alfred had developed panic attacks during their “lover’s spat” as Alfred liked to put their Cold War. Alfred always tried his best to avoid the topic, because he knew how much it hurt Ivan. Ivan thanked him for it, because nothing hurt him more than to see the overwhelming terror in the younger nation’s eyes when he had a panic attack.

He had hurt so many already. He couldn’t bear to do the same to Alfred. This was why he hardly touched him. Why he waited for Alfred’s kisses and asked before he held his hand. His eyes were bright and vibrant. His voice was chipper and full of life. Ivan lived to hear Alfred laugh and died inside when he cried. He cared for Alfred and that was where his problems lay. He couldn’t love Alfred. He shouldn’t love Alfred. Alfred was his little bird, beautiful, naïve, constantly chattering, and wishing for nothing more than room to spread his wings beneath the sun’s gorgeous beams and live life the best way he knew how. Ivan couldn’t keep him here. He didn’t want to repeat history. He couldn’t repeat that winter day so long ago when his little bird had died in his arms. Ivan would hurt Alfred again one day, and he didn’t want to risk it.

Alfred wriggled his fingers in the cage, in a manner as if to check if the bird was really dead. When he was sure, he sighed and stepped away from the cage. The bird had reminded Ivan so much of Alfred and he had killed it. Ivan was disgusted with himself. Why did things always have to die?

“I do not like birds,” Ivan mumbled, still staring into the cage.

“You don’t?” Alfred asked, a surprised lilt in his voice, “Aw man, your sister said you loved birds! She said you used to have some as a kid. I thought… I’m sorry,”

“Nyet! No, no, do not be sorry…” Ivan said quickly and regretted being the cause of the frown on Alfred face, “You did not know,”

“I’m still sorry… Why don’t you like birds?”

Ivan was unsure if he should answer. Alfred’s curious eyes bore into the side of Ivan’s skull and he caved. “They are… too fragile and… I always kill them. I cannot hold them or touch them,” _or you._ Ivan swallowed thickly and cleared his throat from the lump that impeded his breathing. “I do not like things I can break,”

“Oh…” Alfred said as if he understood, but he didn’t, “No more birds, then. No worries, big guy,”

“…Thank you, little one,” Ivan whispered.

“I don’t like you being alone in this big house of yours, though,” Alfred said looking around at the vast living room. The entire house was even larger. Ivan would have left the old manor for an apartment in the city had there not been so many memories packed away within the creaking walls, sagging furniture, and abandoned belongings. Everything felt so cold and yet, it was familiar.

“What about a dog?” Alfred chirped, “Oh, or a cat! You look like a cat person. Do you like cats?”

“A… cat?” Ivan muttered.

“Yeah, they’re a bit more…” Alfred moved his hands in an odd fashion, as if he was attempting to grasp words from the air, “sturdy, ya’ know? Like, you can rough ‘em up a bit and they’ll be okay,”

Something about Alfred’s tone told Ivan he didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say, but Ivan had no other way to put it. Saying he killed everything he came in contact with, would have been a bit better, but Alfred would have looked at him strangely, or worse been frightened by his words and leave him. “Okay… Cat… Cat is good,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Most people are smaller than him or make themselves smaller in Russia's presence. I always sort of thought than once the other countries began leaving the Soviet Union, they were able to tell him why they feared him so much and this resonated with Russia. It made him realize that he's been scaring and harming them and he developed a fear for things and people he can break, even if he loves them._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'd love to hear any comments you might have. They are very much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

The weather had improved since Alfred’s last visit and Ivan had been able to come to terms with the idea of owning a cat. They were fairly independent creatures, he knew that much. He had never owned a cat of his own, but he had met Alfred’s and it seemed kind enough to earn Ivan’s affection. Cats provided warmth when they wanted to and giving Ivan that warmth while Alfred was away was exactly what the younger nation had in mind.

Alfred walked ahead of him as they entered the animal shelter. They had managed to get lost among the dogs rather than the cats. Alfred stopped at every kennel, beaming and pointing at each dog, young and old, all vying for his attention. Ivan could have sworn he witnessed one of the smaller dogs cower as he walked past. He winced at the sight. Ivan didn’t want to be around the dogs anymore.

Eventually, a volunteer at the shelter joined them and asked them if they needed any help picking out a dog that would be suitable for them and their home. Ivan grew embarrassed when the young lady had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“Oh, we were just looking around. We’re looking for a cat actually,” Alfred admitted in poorly articulated Russian, “Do you have any cats that… I don’t know… cats that won’t die too quickly?” Alfred’s Russian was always straight to the point.

“We have some kittens,” the shelter volunteer offered.

Ivan tensed. Kittens were too small. Even if Ivan managed to care for it without it dying before maturity, he was sure he would grow too attached and he would end up harming it anyway. He’d much rather had something older, something less needy, something more independent like he had originally imagined. “Uh, no,” Ivan said quickly before the young woman could lead them to any kittens Alfred might fall for. “I’d rather… We’d rather have something older and bigger,”

“Oh, right,” Alfred said in realization, “Ivan, wants something bigger and sturdier. Can we see the older cats?”

“Alright,” the girl smiled and led them away to where they held the cats. The room was mostly quiet until they stepped inside. Once they had been noticed, cats left their beds or their perches and attempted to call attention to themselves by purring and meowing from their cages.

Alfred fluttered about the room, greeting each cat that called for his attention. Ivan walked a bit slower. He watched Alfred rush about and smiled slightly. Alfred was entertaining to watch and Ivan barely noticed the small brown paw reaching out between the bars of one of the larger cages and batting at the loose threads on his scarf. Ivan jolted at the feeling of something touching his beloved scarf and quickly turned around to face the one that had invaded his space. The large cat continued to reach its paw through the bars of the cage’s door. Ivan frowned at it and tugged his scarf a little closer to himself. “It looks like someone likes you,” the shelter volunteer giggled.

Alfred turned around at hearing this and beamed at the sight. He rushed over and stuck his finger through the bars. The cat rubbed against them and purred. “Aw, Ivan, look at how cute he is!” Alfred gushed and looked back at Ivan, “He’s so sweet!”

Ivan looked down at the animal. It was large and overweight and the long length of its fur wasn’t making it look any slimmer. Its fur was mostly brown, aside from the white tufts of fur around its neck, over its chest, on its back paws, and at the end of its tail. Its large eyes were dark blue and nearly similar to the strange violet hue his eyes possessed in the right lighting. Its small paws were buried under its excessive fur as it sat and watched them, its large black nose sniffing Alfred’s fingers. Alfred took notice of this little feature and laughed, “He looks a lot like you, huh?”

Ivan blinked, “No, he does not,”

“Sure, he does!” Alfred exclaimed and touched the cat’s nose, “He looks exactly like you!”

Ivan buried his nose into his scarf, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Alfred and the shelter volunteer remained oblivious and happily chattered away about the cat and its behaviors. The cat enjoyed the indoors, but liked spending some time outside, adored wet food, and loved string. Alfred was directed to look at the information above the cat’s cage and found its name written in messy Russian. “Ivan, look!” Alfred gasped, “His name his Mr. Snugglebottom!”

“No…” Ivan grumbled into his scarf, his cheek dusted with red.

“Oh, no wait. I read that wrong,” Alfred admitted and laughed, “It’s Captain Snugglebottom! He’s exactly like you! Aw, Ivan he’s perfect!”

“You can change his name,” the volunteer explained to Ivan, who looked at the cat’s name with distain. Of course, somewhere within Alfred’s train of thought he remembered that the cat they picked out was going to be Ivan’s and not his. He couldn’t influence Ivan’s decision, no matter how cute he found any of the felines the shelter housed. Alfred asked Ivan if he even liked the cat with the outrageous name or if he’d rather keep looking. Ivan opted to keep looking for a cat that wasn’t as strange, but in the end, something drew him back to it. Ivan told himself it was only because Alfred liked the cat and not because he couldn’t stop looking into its adorably large eyes.

They soon learned that the cat had been abandoned at the shelter by owners who could no longer care for it. It was only 5 or 6 years old and it was fairly calm as it was placed into a cardboard carrier and taken to the front office for Ivan to sign the papers for it. Although Ivan could admit that the name was adorable, it wasn’t a fitting name for a living creature. Alfred believed otherwise.

In the end, they settled on the name Samuel. It was Ivan’s cat and Alfred didn’t think it would be nice to argue with him over a goofy name the cat had been given as a joke when it had first been dropped off at the shelter. Besides, Samuel seemed like a nice name for fluffy addition to Ivan’s family.

Once they were back in Ivan’s car, Alfred scratched behind Samuel’s ear through a large air hole in the carrier. “He can be Captain Samuel,” Alfred said, because he still liked the title.

“Whatever you say, my sunshine,” Ivan agreed and attempted to explain why Alfred had thought the cat had looked like him. It was cute, he supposed, but it was also a natural hunter. In a way, he could see why. Alfred was like a bird to him. It only seemed reasonable that he would be the cat.

While Alfred was beautiful and chipper, always seeing the bright side of things, and full of energy Ivan could only dream up, Ivan was quiet and menacing, with painfully fake smiles, and the occasional hope for the pain of others. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t feel bad for thinking those things about his fellow nations. It wasn’t as if he truly wanted to harm them. In fact, he frightened himself daily with those thoughts. However, it was all he had known as a child. His only encounters with other nations had been with those looking to conquer and harm him. He tensed as the scars on his neck tingled under the scarf he hid them with. Ivan had earned those as punishment many years ago, yet the memories remained vivid to him, even now. He could barely look at himself without feeling disgusted with his own body. His fingers gripped the steering wheel just a bit tighter.

Ivan loved Alfred more than he could ever say. Alfred was his personal ray of sunshine and joy. It would make sense that Ivan would be the one to ruin it for the both of them. He was a hunter, a killer, just like the cats that watched their pray in silence, watching, waiting. Ivan couldn’t understand love or happiness. That had been made clear to him years ago. Ivan would never be able to show it properly. He only scared those he loved and harmed those he cared for. It was only a matter of time before Alfred would feel the same. Ivan would ruin it all because Alfred was his naive little bird and Ivan was close to losing it all once he pounced.

“IVAN!”

Ivan gasped and slammed his foot on the break. The car behind them honked and the driver shouted in unintelligible Russian through their window. The car in front of them had stopped at a red light. Ivan had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed.

Alfred sat in the passenger seat, clutching the cardboard carrier to his chest, shaking and hyperventilating. Ivan instantly panicked and grabbed Alfred’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “Are you alright?” Ivan asked and realized he was witnessing what could be the beginning of a panic attack. However, Alfred quickly nodded and took a few slow deep breaths. “I’m fine,” he said quickly and motioned for Ivan to watch the road ahead of them, “Don’t worry about me,”

“But if you’re going to have a panic attack-,” Ivan attempted to protest, but Alfred only shook his head.

“The light’s green,” Alfred said and Ivan looked back at the road. As they drove, Alfred continued speaking, “I’m not going to have a panic attack. That’s not what causes them. I was just shocked, is all,” With Alfred’s promise, Ivan nodded and focused on driving for the rest of their way home.

Once they had returned to Ivan’s aged manor, Alfred walked through the slush and snow toward the front door, carrier in hand. The cat was let go to explore its new surroundings. Alfred mostly followed the cat around to make sure it didn’t get into trouble, while Ivan left for the kitchen and stared at the contents of the refrigerator to decide what he could make for lunch. Alone in the silence, Ivan thought about Alfred and himself. He wasn’t even sure they should even be together. Ivan often wondered if he was being selfish with their relationship. Did he even have a right to have Alfred to himself? Did he even deserve the warmth he provided? Alfred could do so much better. He could be with someone who wouldn’t hurt him and who hadn’t hurt him before. Alfred could stop having to save Ivan from himself and be the only thing that brought him true joy. Alfred wouldn’t have to stress himself over Ivan’s health or wellbeing. He’d be free from him. Alfred would be free, like he always wanted to be, but Ivan was selfish. He didn’t want to led his little bird go.

Ivan heard Alfred gleefully talking with the new cat in the hall as if it could understand him. Ivan decided he wasn’t hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Ivan got his cat, but he didn't have the reaction Alfred was hoping for. Maybe, he'll finally let Alfred in on how he's feeling. (Also, yes, the cat is Russia cat from Nekotalia.)
> 
> Also, Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers! Have fun and stay safe!


	3. Chapter 3

Ivan jolted awake, gasping for breath. His skin felt clammy and slick with sweat. The blood and blue tinted lips from his dreams flashed before his eyes, reminding him of the past he never hoped to relive. His hand quickly touched his neck, finding that his scarf had fallen off in his sleep, yet the white bandages he had secured around his neck remained. Ivan blinked back the tears in his eyes and took in a raged breath to calm his nerves. In the dark, Ivan’s arm squeezed Alfred around the waist in search for comfort. The younger nation lay nestled in his arms, his back pressed against Ivan’s chest. Alfred felt incredibly small in Ivan’s arms.

Ivan trembled and pulled Alfred closer to himself. He pressed his nose and cheek into the crook Alfred’s neck, leaching the warmth he provided. A pair of wide eyes watched Ivan from the foot of the bed and added another level of uneasiness to Ivan’s frayed nerves. The cat the eyes belonged to softly mewed in irritation and curled back up at Ivan’s feet.

“Babe,” Alfred mumbled, half asleep. Ivan’s breath ghosting over his shoulder had woken him somewhat. The trembling arm around his waist quickly told him something was very wrong. Alfred rolled over and turned to face Ivan in the dark, “Are you alright, big guy?”

Ivan didn’t speak. Between his ragged breaths and the fast beating of his heart, Ivan was sure he wouldn’t be able to manage more than a pathetic whimper. Alfred’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, allowing him to see the wet sheen in Ivan’s eyes. “Aw, babe,” Alfred sighed and cupped Ivan’s cheek. He wiped away the tears and lightly kissed Ivan on the bridge on his nose. “What happened?”

“…N-Nothing,” Ivan whispered, still unsure about using his voice.

Unfortunately for Ivan, Alfred saw through his lies fairly quickly. He frowned and hugged Ivan around his side, similarly to how Ivan was holding him. “You had a bad dream again, huh?” Alfred knew Ivan often had nightmares, coupled with severe bouts of insomnia. Often times when Ivan finally managed to fall asleep, he’d be jarred back into the waking world by the horrors of his past. Alfred should have learned long ago not to ask what Ivan had dreamed about, but he hadn’t and he continued to ask every time.

“What was your dream about?” Alfred’s question was left unanswered as Ivan sighed heavily and turned away from Alfred and holding his arms close to himself.

“Babe,” Alfred pushed and rubbed Ivan’s arm, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… Leave me alone,” Ivan mumbled.

“What did I say?” Alfred sleepily wined, his voice becoming small and taking on a more concerned tone. Ivan quickly regretted his words. He could imagine Alfred’s hurt eyes, his tentative touch, and his quivering lip. Although he couldn’t see Alfred, he was sure that was what he would fine if he turned to look. His chest hurt as the panic built up. If Alfred was feeling poorly, it could only be his fault. “You’re too good for me,” The forlorn words slipped past Ivan’s lips before he could stop himself.

Alfred had never been good at reading the atmosphere and being tired and confused in the middle of the night, left Alfred with even less sense than he usually had. He sleepily smiled and hugged Ivan closer to himself in a tight embrace. “Aw, you’re too sweet, big guy,” Alfred chuckled, taking Ivan’s quiet comment as a compliment, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Alfred sleepily held Ivan close to him and fell asleep pressed close to Ivan’s back.

Alfred and Samuel remained asleep for the rest of the night, while Ivan silently stared at the chip in the wall paper, too scared to close his eyes and watch his hands be painted red with Alfred’s blood in his dreams once more.

Dawn came and went. Ivan pretended to sleep as Alfred woke up beside him to the sounds of Samuel meowing in their ears. Alfred yawned and scratched the offending feline behind the ears. “You’re just as bad as the fluff ball back at my place,”

At the mention of Alfred’s cat, Samuel’s ears perked up. He hopped of the bed onto the hardwood flooring, meowed, and left the room, expecting Alfred to follow. Ivan felt the bed dip and spring back up as Alfred left the warmth of the quilts and followed the cat to the kitchen.

Ivan sighed rolled over onto his back. Alfred’s hold on him for the majority of the night left Ivan unable to pull his scarf back on. He sat up and found his scarf buried underneath one of their many pillows. He wrapped the scarf back around his neck and pulled his legs out from underneath the quilts. Ivan sat at the edge of his bed feeling fatigued. He was sure a migraine was soon to come. In the silence, he continued to think about Alfred and what had happened the night before.

The images that had plagued him in his sleep were slowly fading. However, Alfred’s horrified expression and the smell of blood remained. Ivan assured himself that it wasn’t real. Although he remembered a similar scenario during the Cold War, he knew now that Alfred was perfectly fine, healthy, and in good spirits as he searched for something to eat in the kitchen. Alfred had reacted oddly to Ivan’s confession. He most likely hadn’t understood, but Ivan wasn’t complaining. The less Alfred knew about how he was feeling the better.

Eventually, Ivan realized he would have to get up sooner or later, so he stood and left his room. Alfred greeted him when he entered the kitchen, pots and pans laid out so that Alfred could cook breakfast. Samuel purred as he ate out of his oddly decorated food bowl.

“Morning!” Alfred chirped and left the refrigerator in favor of the pantries. “How are you feeling?”

Alfred’s reference to the night before made Ivan tense. Ivan carefully though about his response before quietly saying, “I feel okay,”

“That’s good,” Alfred said, still searching for something for breakfast, “I was pretty worried about you,”

Ivan bit his tongue to stop himself from telling Alfred he shouldn’t worry about him. Ivan’s life had always been abnormally difficult. It wasn’t anything new. If anything, Ivan should worry about Alfred. He was so young; so much younger than Ivan. Ivan was pathetic. Alfred didn’t deserve to be with a person like Ivan. He deserved someone who didn’t fake their smiles, who didn’t anger so easily, who understood the ways of other people, and didn’t scare away those who cared about him. Ivan had witnessed many times when Alfred had attempted to invite someone to lunch with them after meetings and after one glance in Ivan’s direction they would politely and fearfully decline. Alfred’s life was hindered because of him and Ivan couldn’t stand it.

Ivan steeled his nerves. He clenched his hands into fists at his side and took in a deep breath. It was now or never. He couldn’t hold Alfred back anymore. He loved Alfred too much to let him waste his time on him. He desperately didn’t want to let his beloved sunflower go, but he knew he had to sacrifice his own feelings for Alfred’s, no matter what. Ending the relationship before it got any worse seemed like the only option to keep Alfred from getting hurt. “Sunflower, I need to-,” Ivan began quietly.

“Aw, are you serious?!”

Ivan gasped nearly inaudibly and took a step back in surprise. Alfred huffed and closed the pantry door. “Man, we have nothing in this big old house!”

Ivan had learned that Alfred’s definition of nothing was a little different than his own definition of nothing. In fact, they most likely had many things in the house that were fit to eat, but they were probably things Alfred wasn’t particularly eager to have for breakfast or at all. Ivan felt bad that he didn’t have anything in the manor that Alfred would want to eat. He should have taken his visit into account when Alfred told him he was coming over and bought more food that he would have eaten. “I… I am sorry, my sunflower,” Ivan said and nibbled on his bottom lip. If Alfred was upset, it wasn’t a good time to bring up breaking off their relationship. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

“Whatever,” Alfred laughed and stepped away from the pantry door. Ivan was puzzled. So, Alfred wasn’t upset?

“I was going to make us some omelets, but we don’t have any eggs. So, then I was going to make us some pancakes, like Mattie makes, but there’s stuff for pancake mix either!

“Oh… No, no, you do not have to make me anything,” Ivan stumbled over his words, “You-You are guest, da?”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Alfred teased and laughed, “I want to. Hey, since we don’t have anything, I can go pick something up. Oh, or I could just go to the store if you want something specific. I’m craving bacon and eggs, myself! What were you going to say by the way?” Alfred blinked at Ivan curiously, his smile still intact and incredibly inviting. Ivan loved that smile, but it certainly was rather selfish of him to want to see that smile every day.

“Ah, well, I…” Ivan cleared his throat and chose to lie, “I just remembered I needed to… pick up something from the store,”

Alfred perked up, “What was it? I can pick it up while I’m out?”

“No, No,” Ivan said, quickly regretting his choice to lie. Alfred shouldn’t have to go out of his way for him, especially for a lie. “I-I can do it,”

“Dude, I’m going out anyway,” Alfred smiled and shook his head at Ivan’s behavior, “What was it you needed?”

“I… forget,” Ivan mumbled.

“Okay, well, I’m going to take a shower,” Alfred came closer and kissed Ivan on his cheek, “and then I’m heading out. Let me know if you remember and I’ll pick it up for you,” Alfred left the kitchen in a good mood, humming with a skip in his step. Ivan groaned and buried his face in his hands. He felt so ashamed. Alfred was in such a good mood and he was only making this harder for the both of them by not saying he needed to let him go. He felt sick and confused. Nothing had ever gone Ivan’s way and it seemed like this would be no different.

Tiny claws dug into Ivan’s pant leg as Samuel made an attempt to earn Ivan’s attention. Looking down, Ivan found the overweight cat begging for more food. Ivan sighed and looked for the half empty can of wet cat food Alfred had given Samuel. Ivan dumped the rest into Samuel’s food bowl and watched as he ate and purred contently. Samuel had been with them for only a few days and Alfred continued to prattle on about how much he looked and acted like Ivan. Alfred seemed to think that was a good thing.

Ivan sighed through his nose and kneeled down to pet the cat. As he ran his hand over Samuel’s back and scratched the scruff of his neck, Ivan talked to him. “He says you look like me… and you act like me… Are you a good cat or a rotten one? I can’t tell…” Ivan frowned, “Alfred likes you. Does he like you more than me? Perhaps, he’d rather just have you?”

The cat didn’t respond, of course. He simply ate and paid Ivan no mind. Ivan eventually accepted this and sat down at the small kitchen table that had been placed there when the large dining hall became too much to bare when most dinners were spent alone in silence.

“Hey, Ivan!” Alfred called down as he descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, fussing with his hair as he walked.

Ivan sat up straighter, surprised Alfred was back so soon. He had fallen into a trance, quietly staring at the cuts and lines in the table and following them with his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed how long he had been sitting there. “You’re done your shower?”

“Yep!” Alfred chirped, “Did you remember what you needed?”

“Uh…” Ivan felt his heart begin to pound. He hadn’t thought of anything, “O-Orange juice!”

“Oh, you’re right! We’re out of that too!” Alfred leaned over and kissed Ivan on the corner of his mouth. Ivan lightly returned it.

“Alright, I’m heading out! Be back in a bit!” Alfred went on his way, pulled on his coat at the front door, and left. Ivan listened closely and heard his car pulled away from their slightly snowy driveway and make its way down the road into town.

Ivan leaned over the table and buried his face in his arms. He had to do something. He couldn’t lie to Alfred. After a long while, Ivan sat up, wiping away tears he hadn’t originally realized were there. In a way, Ivan knew he needed to speak with someone about this. He needed someone to speak to about leaving Alfred, but he was too terrified of Alfred’s reaction to even consider him as an option. Ivan had the phone in his hand and was dialing the first number he could think of, before his nerves could get the best of him.

“Hello?” Francis’s voice on the other side of the line sounded taken aback and tentative, “You called me, Russia? Not that getting a call from you it bad, mon ami,”

“No, no, I called because…” Ivan stopped himself. Did he really want to do this? He would be bringing another person into his unfortunate situation. Why would Francis even think twice about helping him with his relationships? In the past, Francis had helped him when his questions had been anonymous over Francis’s old radio broadcasts, but now, on the phone, which was most likely in the early morning for him, Francis might not spare him a second glance. “I need to ask you for some advice, Francis,” Ivan’s eventually choked out.

The use of his name, rather than the name of his nation, made Francis pause and bring himself into a more personal mode. “What sort of advice, Ivan?”

“It is… about Alfred and me,” Ivan tugged at his scarf. He suddenly felt like he was being suffocated.

“Romantically?” Francis asked.

“Yes,” Ivan whispered, feeling more and more like his heart was about to leap from his chest.

“You’ve hit a rough patch, haven’t you?” Francis said in an understanding way. Ivan felt as though he could have sighed in relief that he didn’t have to say it himself.

“Yes… We… We have…” Ivan took a deep breath, “and I believe it is my fault,”

“I expected as much. Since that Cold War of yours, I have always worried about you two. Have you talked to Alfred about this?” Francis asked, genuinely concerned with the state of his former son’s and old friend’s relationship. “Is mon petit mad with you? What is he saying? How are you feeling?”

“N-No,” Ivan admitted, “I cannot speak with him about this. I feel horribly about many things and I… I cannot burden him with it,”

“Ivan, non,” Francis said, “A healthy relationship is built on trust and understanding. You must talk to Alfred about how you feel. You can’t keep secrets from him like this, especially if they are upsetting you so much. This will only make things unhealthy and hard on the both of you,”

“Unhealthy?” Ivan asked tentatively, “Would you… consider it unhealthy now?”

Francis thought for a moment, “…Only if you mean what you told me; that you are not telling Alfred about anything you have been feeling for a long while. Communication is key in any relationship. You must tell Alfred everything if you want to attempt to improve your relationship,”

“I see,” Ivan said quietly.

“Is that all you needed?” Francis asked tentatively.

“Yes… That… That was all,” Ivan forced a smile even though he knew Francis couldn’t see it, “Thank you for helping,”

“I’m glad I could help,” Francis lightly chuckled, “Now I must go. Call me again if you have any questions. Communication is key. Don’t forget,”

Ivan hung up the phone before Francis could say goodbye. The smile dropped into a deep frown. He was supposed to tell Alfred everything and he hadn’t. He hadn’t established a healthy relationship from the beginning. Ivan gripped the phone a little tighter in his hand. The tone droned and his fingers squeezed the buttons by mistake. He hadn’t been good for Alfred. He never had been. Ivan wasn’t good for Alfred and now it was too late to fix things. How could he salvage something had already ruined from the start? He truly didn’t deserve Alfred. He was too good for him and meant too much to him. Ivan set the phone down once he realized a small crack had begun to form under his fingertips.

“I am so sorry, my sunflower,” Ivan whispered into the silence and left the kitchen in favor of his old and stiff recliner in the living room. He let the morning news drown out his thoughts. Perhaps he could numb himself enough to stop himself from feeling so sick.

Samuel meowed at the door to the back yard. The longer he was ignored, the more he meowed and scrapped his claws against the wood to reach the doorknob. Ivan continued to ignore him as he had for the past ten minutes. Eventually the earsplitting yowling was too much to ignore. Ivan sighed and begrudgingly opened the door to allow Samuel outside. The cat jumped at the chance to get outside and pranced through the melting snow, before jumping at the little sunrays that reflected off the white landscape. Ivan believed there was one thing he and this cat certainly didn’t have in common. Ivan did not like to play in the snow alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivan tends to take things literally and when people tell him something is wrong in the way he is doing something, he will either believe he's right and become angry or believe he is completely wrong and incapable of improving the situation. These are both very extreme ways to think about things and Alfred is still pretty much oblivious due to the 'honeymoon stage' their relationship was in before, where everything seemed perfect. Alfred likes to think when people tell him they are okay, that they really are okay. He's very trusting and this is a main reason why Ivan hates lying to him. However, he believes he's protecting him, because when Alfred realizes he's lied to, he get's sad and Ivan doesn't think he can handle that.
> 
> Comments are always looked forward too, so if you'd like to leave one, I'd love to read it. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Ivan’s head ached as he stood outside to watch Samuel prance through the snow, leaving small paw prints behind. Ivan’s lips pressed down on his cigarette and exhaled through his nose. The smoke was carried away by the light breeze. Ivan watched it dissipate into the morning air. Smoking was a bad habit he had picked up a long time ago. He knew it was bad for him, but he couldn’t die and any damage was rapidly repaired the longer he went without smoking. However, Alfred despised the smell. He couldn’t stand the sight of a cigarette ever since so many humans he cared for died of lung cancer. Ivan had tried to quit for him, yet here he was with another cigarette between his lips. Usually, they made him feel calmer, but today it only made him feel worse.

Ivan dropped the cigarette and ground it into the snow with his foot. Samuel noticed this and looked up from his spot in the snow. He watched Ivan curiously, ears twitching and snow clinging to his long brown fur. “What do you want?” Ivan harshly called out and hugged his arms around himself. It was warming up, but spring had yet to come this year and Ivan felt colder than usual. Samuel chirped in response and trotted closer. Ivan took a step back and shooed the cat away. It wasn’t that Ivan didn’t like the cat, he just didn’t participatory feel like behaving in a caring manner toward it right now.

Samuel seemed to take the hint and pranced off somewhere into the distance. Ivan clenched his fists and sighed. He reached into his coat to grab another cigarette, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need it. He knew he didn’t need it.

Ivan sat down in the snowy porch chair beside him. His hair chilled the back of his neck, still slightly wet from his morning shower. He shouldn’t have come outside, but Alfred didn’t like leaving Samuel alone outside and Alfred wasn’t here to watch him.

Ivan rested his hands on his knees, but he quickly tensed. His hands gripped his knees and forced himself to stop trembling. He needed to calm down. Alfred was at the store and would be home soon. It wouldn’t take long, but long enough for Ivan to come up with some way to explain to Alfred why they could no longer be together. He would be upset, certainly, but if Ivan could play his cards right, Alfred would understand and realize just how unsafe he was with him, and leave just like everyone else. Ivan was just speeding up the process and that was better than stringing this along and getting them both hurt.

His talk with Francis earlier had done nothing more than prove to him he didn’t deserve Alfred. Alfred had put up with so many things he’s done. Slowly, his mind wondered back to when times were much similar.

Speaking with the newly form United States of America had been a must. He had met him once before, when the young man was merely a colony that cowered behind England’s leg at the sight of a stranger in his home.

The air in North America had him sweating and ill from heat. Meeting the illusive United States was worth the suffering though. His gorgeous smile was inviting and captivating. Ivan’s nervous exterior was reflected in the younger nation’s actions. Isolation wasn’t ending for the new nation, but making some temporary friends was a must. The most shocking thing Ivan came across was that America wasn’t frightened of him. He smiled naturally and stuck by Ivan’s side throughout his visit.

America never showed any signs of mistrust when Ivan spoke to him or walked along beside him. Ivan looked forward to his daily walks and meals spent with the young man. The two of them drew so close that Ivan came to know him as Alfred, rather than America. Alfred made him feel as though he finally had someone who accepted him and understood him. All his life, that was what he had wanted and he believed he had finally gotten it, but in the end it had been ruined.

Alfred’s mistrust of Ivan’s government and the brutality in the way Ivan spoke only resulted in broken bones and bloody noses. Ivan hadn’t understood why Alfred was so untrustworthy of him. Ivan truly believed he was doing something right for a change. His people seemed happy and his bosses promised him they’d make him better, stronger, more powerful. He barely registered the training, demanded obedience, and the chill that ran up his spin every time his boss looked in his direction as signs that things were very, very wrong. Alfred seemed to see it though, but his glares and discomfort did nothing to change Ivan’s mind. If anything, he believed the American was turning his back on him, just as everyone else had. Ivan was content with his newly formed union. If Alfred didn’t want to be a part of the family, Ivan couldn’t care less.

The sudden reminder of the Cold War made Ivan realize his hands were shaking and his eyes were trained on the white slush beneath his feet.

The panicked screeching of a bird jolted Ivan out of his thoughts. Ivan turned to look to find Samuel connecting with the snowing ground after jumping from the nearby tree, blood on his fur and mouth, dripping onto the snow. A dead bird was held between the cat’s teeth, his innocent eyes lit up as he trotted back toward Ivan.

Ivan weakly gasped and took small step back. That cat meowed and dropped the dead carcass at Ivan’s feet, looking proud and expectant. The blood turned the white slush red. Ivan felt sick. The sight of the dead bird wasn’t anything new or disconcerting when compared to the past atrocities Ivan had witnessed with his very own eyes. However, the growing sense of rage and self loathing that bubbled up from the pit of Ivan’s stomach only made this situation appear worse than it actually was.

Alfred, his little bird, and Ivan, this oblivious little cat, were locked in a never ending struggle to protect themselves from one another. Alfred would be harmed no matter what he did, because Ivan was a hunter, a killer. Ivan needed others to live and in the end it always ended in bloodshed, unless Alfred spread his wings and left Ivan alone to wallow in his own sadness. He shouldn’t have been mad, he shouldn’t have been so upset, but after his thoughts had trailed so far into the past, Ivan was on edge. It all had to go somewhere.

“You stupid, STUPID LITTLE ANIMAL!” Ivan grabbed the cat by the scruff on the back of its neck, as tears burned his eyes and dripping down his cheek, and pushed it back into the house.

—

Alfred hummed along to the radio as he pulled into the driveway. He grabbed the bag full of his purchases from the passenger seat and slipped out of the car and into the chilly world around them. Alfred tugged his coat round himself and trudged toward the front door.

Alfred hated the cold, but he loved spending time with Ivan more. Alfred pressed the key into the lock and unlocked the door. As he entered the manor, Alfred didn’t expect for the first thing he heard to be Ivan’s enraged voice shouting Russian curses at the top of his lungs.

“Babe?” Alfred called out in worry and dropped the groceries, “Ivan, what’s wrong?”

Ivan was found shaking with rage, trailing down his burning cheeks. Samuel found himself backed up against the wall, back arched, ears back, and fur standing on its ends. “I hate you!” Ivan screamed, “I hate you! Why are you like this?! I-I…”

“Ivan, stop!” Alfred shouted. Ivan gasped, taken aback by Alfred’s sudden entrance and turned around in shock. His eyes wide with terror reflected the fear in Alfred’s. Seeing a chance to escape, Samuel took off toward the kitchen at full speed.

“Alfred…” Ivan breathed, his voice suddenly gone, “I-I… I didn’t expect you back so quickly,”

Alfred’s eyebrows scrunched together as he took in the scene with confusion. His mouth hung open at the sight of tears on Ivan’s face and the redness of his cheeks. Ivan was breathing heavy as he attempted to regain his breath and think of something to say. While Alfred looked at him head on, Ivan avoided his gaze, searching the room for anything other Alfred’s eyes. “Ivan…” Alfred said carefully and motioned in the direction Samuel had run. “Look at me… What was that?”

Ivan swallowed thickly and shrugged his shoulder, “Nothing…”

“Ivan…” Alfred said, pushing for an answer, “Don’t lie to me,”

“I am not!” Ivan said forcefully, extremely on edge.

“Why were you yelling?”

“I wasn’t!”

“You are now!” Alfred raised his voice to match Ivan’s. “What happened?!”

“Do not yell at me,” Ivan hissed.

“Then don’t yell at me!” Alfred stood a bit taller, a bit more defensively. “What happened?”

Ivan growled and pointed in the direction Samuel had run, his hands shaking. “That… That stupid cat! It caught and… It killed a bird!”

Alfred’s chest deflated as he slowly processed what Ivan had just told him. He was angry at their new cat for doing something that was expected of any cat, domestic or not. Alfred chuckled in relief and ran his fingers through his hair. Shaking his head in disbelief, Alfred said, “They do that, big guy. Especially outdoor cats! He’s gonna catch a few birds here and there,”

“You do not understand!” Ivan snapped, his hands balled into fists, “He can’t!”

Alfred was taken aback by Ivan’s second outburst. “We can train him-!”

“No!”

Alfred took a step back. His heart pounded in his chest as he searched for a solution. He didn’t understand why Ivan was so angry. He knew Ivan was easy to anger, but this situation made very little sense. The fact that Ivan seemed to be angry with him didn’t help matters. “L-Look don’t… don’t fight with me…” Alfred took in a deep breath to keep himself from panicking over something so simple. “…I thought you said you didn’t like birds,”

“I don’t!” Ivan screamed, clearly unsure on how to express his emotions to Alfred. “I can’t do this anymore!” Ivan covered his face and slouched. He turned away from Alfred and Alfred felt offended.

“Hang on!” Alfred grabbed his shoulder, “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You need to leave,” Ivan pushed Alfred’s hands off of him and escaped toward the living room.

“Wait!” Unshed tears prickled Alfred’s eyes, “I don’t understand! What did I do wrong?!”

“Please!” Ivan called back, “Just go!”

“Do you not like the cat?!” Alfred screamed as he followed behind Ivan, tears escaping as he blinked. “You need to tell me these things before we go and-!”

“Alfred!” Ivan shouted and turned around, “I can’t-! …You don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand!”

“I’m breaking up with you!”

Alfred stumbled backwards, “Y-You… But I thought you… You said you loved…” Alfred was quickly losing his breath. He panted and gasped, yet the air didn’t seem to make it into his lungs. He shook and cursed himself for being so weak. It wasn’t as if he could control when this happened, but he hated that Ivan had to see him back like this. He hugged himself around his waist and doubled over, shaking, with tears trickling under his chin.

Ivan quickly realized what was happening. His eyes widened in shock and grabbed Alfred’s shoulders. “No, nyet, no, no,” Ivan tried to bring Alfred closer to himself, “This… This isn’t what I wanted. I wanted to avoid this!”

“Don’t…” Alfred gasped, “Don’t y-yell… at me,” Ivan pulled Alfred toward the living room couch and sat him down. He sat down beside him, taking care to distance himself from Alfred, knowing he might need his space considering earlier experienced with Alfred’s panic attacks. Ivan remembered that the last one had been around the time Sputnik had been launched and Alfred had been so terrified that Ivan was watching him from space, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, that he had thrown himself into a panic attack. Ivan hadn’t been allowed to touch him as Alfred back himself into a corner and cried. It had been a horrible experience.

Thankfully, Alfred’s current attack only lasted a few minutes. It had been fairly mild considering what it could have been like. Alfred sat on the opposite side of the couch, his eyes trained down at his hands. Ivan did the same. Quietly, Ivan breathed in and said, “I am so sorry,”

“…Yeah,” Alfred muttered.

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ivan whispered, “I was just angry,”

Alfred sighed and nodded, “Whatever, it’s… it’s okay. Let’s just forget about it,”

Ivan didn’t speak for a moment and Alfred tensed up.

“Ivan?”

Ivan sighed and shook his head, “This is why I am breaking up with you,”

“What?! Ivan!” Alfred shouted, “Why are you breaking up with me? What did I do?”

“Nothing!” Ivan admitted, “You did nothing!”

“Then why?!”

“You are the bird!” Ivan screamed.

Alfred paused and realized very quickly that he hadn’t understood a word of Ivan had just said. “…What?” Alfred asked.

“Y-You kept saying I was the cat! Why would you keep saying it if you didn’t mean it?!” Ivan begged, searching for an answer.

“I was just joking!” Alfred explained, “Sometimes animals look like their owners, ya’ know? My cat looks a little like me! I thought you’d think it was funny!”

“It is not funny! You… You are not safe with me! I’ll hurt you!” Ivan held out his hands as if the proof on them.

“W-What? Are you planning to hurt me?” Alfred asked.

“No!” Ivan stood up, “We can’t be together! The Cold War was a horrible time! If we keep up like this, it will only happen again!”

“No, it won’t!” Alfred stood up to meet him.

Ivan realized very quickly where this fight was going and he wasn’t going to put Alfred through that again, not so soon after it just happened. “Sunflower, please, sit down before… I hurt you again. You’re too young to understand,” Ivan lightly grabbed Alfred shoulders, “You’re too naive and you can’t see what’s going to happen to us. I need to keep you safe,”

The expression of Alfred face morphed from one of anger and confusion to one of disgust and disbelief. He yanked himself away from Ivan’s grasp and hardened his glare. “Get away from me!”

“Good,” Ivan smiled weakly, “This is good! Now you see, da?”

Alfred wiped a few tears away, “How dare you!?”

“Wha-?”

“You know what, Ivan?” Alfred said through his tears, “I loved you. I believed that you knew the real me; that you looked past my age and actually took me seriously… I was wrong…” Alfred groaned and cursed himself for crying. Furiously rubbed them away and glared up at Ivan as fiercely as he could, “I’m not weak. I’m not some delicate little flower! I’m not an idiot who needs protecting from the past! I know what I’m doing! I can handle myself! …Don’t you get it? I loved you and I thought you loved me!”

Ivan’s gazed fell to the floor. He didn’t say a word.

“Say it,” Alfred’s voice cracked, “Say you love me and I don’t have to leave! We can talk about this! We can work this out! We always have,”

Ivan stayed silent.

“FINE!” Alfred ran past Ivan, bumping into him on his way out and slammed the front door behind him. When the cold air met his face, Alfred realized he had walked out with just his coat and cell phone. Ivan had been the one to pick him up from the airport, so he couldn’t take Ivan’s car into town. He groaned at the lack of options. He couldn’t go back inside for his things, not after just making a scene, and he wasn’t going to wait for a taxi to pick him up outside of town. He tugged his coat around himself and, in the end, briskly walked toward town, cursing the world with every step.

Ivan stayed rooted in the spot on the living room carpet. Samuel peeked out from around the corner, mewing softly in Ivan’s direction. He slowly inched closer and sniffed Ivan’s pant leg, waiting to be interacted with. Samuel rubbed against Ivan’s leg and purred in a poor attempt in comfort. Slowly, Ivan kneeled down and scratched behind Samuel’s ear. “Stupid, stupid little cat…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a lot longer to write. It's also a little longer than the others. I feel really bad for them, but this is how it has to be for a while. Let me know what you guys think. I hope you like it!


	5. Chapter 5

Alfred threw his coat onto his hotel bed and fell back onto the lumpy mattress. The heater overworked itself in the background to keep the room warm and the dim lighting made the room seem sleepier. Alfred stared up at the ceiling, wondering where everything had gone wrong. He groaned and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He felt tired and emotionally drained. Why did he have to be so rash?

Alfred pulled his phone from his pocket with his chilled fingers. He scrolled through his contacts and called the person he felt he could always rely on the most during times like this.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice instantly helped Alfred relax.

Sighing, Alfred closed his eyes, “Hey, Mattie,”

“What’s up, Al?” Matthew asked, wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder to open a can of tuna so that Kumajiro would stop complaining. “How’s your trip been? Is Ivan treating you right?” Matthew chuckled.

At the mention of Ivan, Alfred grew quiet.

“Is something wrong?” Matthew asked, growing worried. Usually, Alfred wouldn’t hesitate to retell every detail of their day, starting from the how handsome Ivan had looked cooking in his apron at breakfast to how wonderful the restaurant they had gone to that night was. Alfred was always in a good mood when he called him, so Alfred’s silence was severely concerning.

“…Ivan broke up with me,” Alfred muttered and covered his face with his free hand.

“He what?!” Matthew asked in astonishment, “But you guys were doing so well!”

“I thought so too,” Alfred sniffled and blinked back the tears in his eyes. He would not cry again. He wouldn’t allow himself to.

“Oh, Al, don’t cry,” Matthew said softly.

“I’m trying,” Alfred chuckled and took in a shaky breath.

“What happened?” Matthew gave Alfred his full attention, “What made him decide you guys needed to break up?”

“I don’t even know,” Alfred groaned, “It was all gibberish to me! He was mad at the cat for catching a bird! Then he told me that he hated being compared to the cat! Which is fine! If he doesn’t like my jokes, I can stop, but he never tells me anything! Then he breaks up with me and… I panic a bit, and then he goes on to tell me that I’m this delicate creature that he needs to protect and that he’s too dangerous for me! That’s total BS and he knows it! He wouldn’t even let us talk it out and he kicks me out and I had to walk to town!”

“He kicked you out?!” Matthew’s tone took on one of worry and rage. No one can kick his brother out into the cold and get away lightly.

“Well, no, not really,” Alfred admitted, “I stormed out and was too embarrassed to ask for a ride into town,”

“Alfred,” Matthew scolded.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, don’t lecture me. I get enough of that from Arthur,”

Matthew sighed, “Do you want me to talk to him? Because, I can knock some sense into him,”

Alfred smiled through his tears as he noticed the protective mode his brother entering. “You don’t have to ‘knock any sense into him’, bro. I just… I just really want to understand why and I don’t think he’d be too happy to talk to me right now,”

“I’ll give Ivan a call. In the meantime, call Arthur and tell him and papa what happened,”

“Aw, come on,” Alfred whined, “Don’t make me talk to Fartie Artie,”

“He won’t like you calling him that,” Matthew chuckled, “But I’m serious. Talking with him might do you so good. He cares, Al,”

“Yeah, he cares… He cares too much,” Alfred muttered.

“Call him,”

“I can’t if you don’t hang up the phone,”

“Good bye, Al,” Matthew smiled, “I’ll call you back, okay?”

“Alright, talk to you later,” Alfred listened to the tone after Matthew had hung up. He sighed and closed his eyes.

-

Ivan was ashamed he hadn’t stopped Alfred from storming out. Alfred hadn’t taken Ivan’s car, which he thought would have been a better and safer option than wondering into town on foot. Ivan should have gone after him, but Alfred had made it very clear he didn’t want to speak with Ivan anymore.

The large manor felt cold and lifeless without Alfred present to breathe life into it. Ivan sat alone in his bedroom, his hands clasped and head between his knees.

He heard the phone ringing in the kitchen for the third time. Sighing, he stood up. Whoever felt the need to call him seemed peculiarly persistent. As he walked back down the stairs, he quickly began to worry he had been ignoring a call from his boss and the hot water he knew he’d be in.

Ivan entered the kitchen just in time to answer the phone on its final ring and press the receiver to his ear. “Privet? Ivan Braginski, speaking,”

“Oh, good, I was wondering if you’d ever pick up,” Ivan didn’t immediately recognize the voice, “I assumed you were ignoring me,”

“Um…” Ivan responded quietly.

“It’s Matthew,” the voice explained quickly, “It’s fine. I’m calling about Alfred,”

Ivan tensed and swallowed harshly. He cleared his throat and prepared himself for any negative response toward him. “Ah, I see,”

“Alfred’s pretty upset,”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ivan said quickly, frantic as he attempted to make sense of his own actions. “I was trying to protect him! Please, you must understand! I love him!”

“Then why did you break up with him?” Matthew’s tone was understanding, yet firm. Matthew was a very patient person. His fuse had already been reduced somewhat, however, having heard the flustered tone in Ivan’s voice, Matthew told himself to stay calm.

“He… He isn’t safe with me,”

“He’s already hurt, Ivan,” Matthew explained, “It happens to every couple. You guys just need to work it out,”

“We can’t… I-I can’t,”

“Why not?”

“…A healthy relationship involves communication and there is so much I can’t tell him. Francis said a relationship like that is unhealthy. I couldn’t keep Alfred in a relationship like that!”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Matthew shook his head, even though he knew Ivan couldn’t see it, “You called papa?”

“Yes,”

“And he told you your relationship was unhealthy?”

“Yes,”

“That doesn’t sound like him,” Matthew said in disbelief, “He was the first one to learn about you and Alfred dating and he was all for it,”

“Perhaps he changed his mind?” Ivan suggested, “He learned that I am unsafe,”

“You’re not unsafe! You’re a bit… eccentric and a tiny bit scary, but you’re getting better. You guys are great for each other. You wouldn’t believe the way you look at each other,” Matthew sighed, “Ivan, tell me what’s going on, because none of this is making any sense. Al thinks it’s his fault,”

“It’s not!”

“Then please explain,”

“I… I hurt everything I touch. I was hated, ever since I was small. I kept birds and they always died. I always killed them. I love Alfred, but I… I’ll hurt him soon. He’s my precious little bird… but I am the cat. I can only hurt him,” Ivan struggled to hold back his tears and control his voice, “I will be hated by everyone… forever. I am ruining his life. I have to let him go… Does… Does that make sense? I cannot tell if my English is making sense,”

“You’re making sense, but Ivan, that’s not true… You need to talk to Alfred about this. I’ll call him back and-,”

“NO!” Both jumped from Ivan’s outburst. Ivan cleared his throat and lowered his voice, “I mean… You can’t tell him,”

“Then you’ll have to,” Matthew said truthfully.

“But…”

“You have to, Ivan. You can’t leave Alfred in the dark like this, not to mention that your mindset is completely off,”

“What do I say?” Ivan voice became small and uncertain.

“Everything… Tell him everything,”

“How?”

“Do you want to practice by telling me? It might help,”

“Thank you, Matthew,” Ivan whispered, “Thank you for this,”

“Of course… So what happened? Tell me like you’ll tell Alfred,”

-

Talking with Arthur had been a hassle. He was furious with Ivan for breaking Alfred’s heart and even more frustrated that he hadn’t been able to prevent it. Francis had joined the conversation, of course, and put in his two cents. He told Alfred that Ivan had spoken to him that morning and asked for relationship advice. It honestly hadn’t made sense for Ivan to break up with him so soon afterward. Alfred blamed himself, but Arthur and Francis were quick to correct him. He shouldn’t blame himself for Ivan’s actions, yet it was hard for him not too. They stayed on the line, until Alfred had stopped feeling as though he was about to cry and wished him luck when Matthew called again.

Matthew called Alfred back later that night and explained that he should visit Ivan in the morning. Alfred agreed and fell asleep feeling a little bit better.

Alfred stepped out of the taxi that next morning and paid the driver for the ride. As the taxi drove away, Alfred realized he’d have to wait for another one if Ivan didn’t want to drive him back into town. Matthew had promised him that Ivan had something important to tell him and that he wished for their relationship to continue. Alfred had been skeptical, but if Ivan was willing to speak with him, he wasn’t going to pass up the offer.

After stepping up onto the porch, Alfred knocked on the door. The sound echoed into the manor, receiving no answer. After a few minutes of waiting, Alfred got tired of standing out in the cold and called out, “Ivan? You home?”

“Come in,” Ivan called, his voice muffled by the door. “It’s unlocked,”

Alfred opened the door and stepped inside. He found Ivan in the living room, sitting beside Samuel on the couch. The scene would have been heartwarming had Ivan not looked so tense and uneasy. Upon seeing Alfred enter, Ivan stood up to meet him.

“You are well?” Ivan asked, his voice small. Alfred nodded and Ivan smiled.

“I’m picking up my stuff soon,” Alfred said and Ivan’s smile vanished.

“Oh…”

“Yeah, I don’t want to get in your way, so I’m calling some of my guys to come and pick it all up and bring it back to my place,”

“Oh…” Ivan made himself a little smaller.

“I came back… because Mattie said you wanted to talk to me?” Alfred kept his gaze to the floor. He hugged himself to ward of the chill in the room and waited for Ivan to say something in return.

“A-Alfred…Uh, America,” Alfred glanced up, his eyes wide with shock. Ivan hadn’t called him by the name of his nation since they had begun dating. They’re human names represented intimacy and understanding. Perhaps it really was over between them.

“America,” Ivan began again, “I haven’t been completely honest with you… I’ve kept a lot of things from my past secret… and for that, I am sorry,”

“O-Oh,” Alfred said and chewed his bottom lip, “I see,”

“I love you… more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything,”

“Then why?” Alfred interrupted, “Why did you break up with me? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, my sunflower-,” Ivan stopped himself, “I cannot call you that. I am sorry…” Ivan took in a deep breath and began again. “I… I hurt everyone and everything I touch. It’s not that I do not think you can care for yourself or that you are pathetic. You are very strong and I envy that, but I do not think I can survive knowing I’ve hurt you anyway by keeping you in a relationship with me,”

“You weren’t hurting me,”

“Please, let me speak,” Ivan said weakly, “I do not know how long I will have the strength to say this,”

“Alright,” Alfred agreed, “I’m sorry,”

“…When I was small,” Ivan’s voice shook as he recalled his childhood, “I was conquered and… harmed in unspeakable ways. Most of my scars and the scars I despise the most are from this time. I grew up surrounded by hate…”

“I know that,” Alfred whispered, “I thought I was doing well to help you, big guy,”

“…I loved birds once…” Ivan smiled weakly, “My sister was not wrong in her assumption… but I killed every single one I’ve ever owned. Whether it was from the cold, or by breaking their wings, or mistakenly holding them wrong and breaking their little necks, I was always the reason they died. Y-You are like a bird. The bird you bought… I reminded me of you and it died while in was in my care,” Ivan seemed hesitant as he said this, worried that he would upset Alfred again. “When we got Samuel, you kept saying I was like a cat and I kept thinking about how cats and birds do not get along and I called France, and he told me that without communication a relationship is unhealthy. There is so much from my past and present that I haven’t shared with you… I can’t be with you if I’ve been making this unhealthy for us. I love you too much to do that to you,”

“Ivan,”

Tears prickled Ivan eyes and he quickly wiped them away. “I can’t do anything right. I’ve ruined everything and I cannot fix it! You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you!” Alfred rushed forward and hugged Ivan close, “I love you! I just didn’t understand. You should have told me you felt this way. We really should have just talked about it from the beginning,”

“I-I couldn’t,” Ivan whimpered and slowly returned Alfred embrace.

“Why couldn’t you?” Alfred said quietly.

“I couldn’t burden you… and I could relive… relive it all again,” Ivan sobbed into Alfred shoulder, “My childhood… and the atrocities I’ve caused,”

Alfred responded by holding the taller man closer and rubbing his back.

“Do you… Do you still want to be together?” Alfred asked carefully.

Ivan nodded as he sobbed into Alfred’s shirt.

“But you don’t want to hurt me?”

Ivan nodded again.

“Babe, it’s okay. We can still be together. We just have to learn to talk to each other,” Alfred led them over to the couch, sat down, and kissed the top of Ivan’s head, “Everything is okay,”

There was a small paused and Alfred pulled away. “No, wait, this isn’t okay,” Alfred caressed Ivan’s cheek, “I love you, Ivan. I really do, but you can’t keep thinking like this. You can’t keep hating yourself and bottling everything up so that you don’t ‘burden’ me. You’re never a burden. I want and need to know what’s upsetting you… You need more help than just me… How about we get you a psychiatrist? Someone who you can talk to about… everything and help you get better?”

“Everything?” Ivan asked through his tears.

Alfred nodded and wiped a few of his tears away, “Everything… I want you to get better, big guy. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?”

Ivan silently nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, some reconciliation! The'res one more chapter! Thank you for reading this far! Let me know what you guys think!


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred stayed for the remainder of his planned visit and helped Ivan relax. They hadn’t fought since they had made up, but that wasn’t to say they didn’t have their usual small disagreements.

Alfred packed his bag, preparing for his plane trip back home. As he folded his clothes and placed them in his suitcase, Ivan watched him with an uncomfortable expression. He swayed from one foot to another in an attempt to calm his nerves. Ivan knew Alfred wasn’t leaving for good, but seeing him pack his bags had Ivan on edge.

Alfred hummed as he packed, oblivious to Ivan’s discomfort. Once the last of his clothes were packed and the suitcase was zipped up, Alfred turned and smiled up at Ivan, reminding him to find a therapist while he was gone.

“I will have to ask my boss,” Ivan said, avoiding Alfred’s gaze.

Alfred sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “You’ve been saying that for the past four days. Have you actually thought about asking your boss?”

“I…” Ivan tensed when he realized the hole in his plan.

“Ivan, you don’t need your boss’s permission to get a therapist. You’re a country,” Alfred crossed his arms, “He should just go along with whatever you want,”

“I am not you!” Ivan shouted and Alfred took a step back, “The leaders I’ve had have never let me… My boss will need to be persuaded. He doesn’t even like me being with you. I…”

“Alright,” Alfred said, “If you need to ask him, please ask him soon. You promised me you’d get help,”

“I know… I am sorry I yelled,” Ivan said after a moment of silent self-depreciation.

“I forgive you,” Alfred said and lightly kissed Ivan’s lips, “I know you didn’t mean it to be mean,”

Ivan relaxed somewhat when Alfred accepted his apology. However, he realized he couldn’t pretend to be alright, considering the disaster that had taken place the last time he had. “I do not want you to leave,” Ivan said truthfully and held Alfred around his waist, pulling him closer.

“I know, babe,” Alfred returned the embrace, “I don’t want to leave either, but duty calls,” Alfred smiled, but quickly noticed the obvious frown on Ivan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ll… You’ll come back?” Ivan asked insecurely.

Alfred smiled warmly and nodded, “Of course, Big Guy. I’ll be back. I love you. Remember that, okay?”

“Da… Y-Yes… I love you too,”

After Alfred left, life returned to some resemblance of a normal. They had called each other and used Skype a few times but Ivan was less than willing to talk about his faults and insecurities without having Alfred there in person.

Samuel remained in Ivan’s care. Alfred had offered to take the cat if caring for it proved too much for Ivan, but Ivan was reluctant to let Samuel go. He was a pleasant companion throughout sleepless nights and slowly warming spring days. Ivan rarely allowed Samuel outside after the incident, so a low number of small creatures met their end in Ivan’s yard. Instead, Samuel chirped from the window and stared wide-eyed at pray he knew he couldn’t catch. When things were quiet, the overweight cat would plop himself down on Ivan’s laps or curl up on his chest and purr as Ivan read a book or fell asleep. Ivan learned to enjoy Samuel’s company and cherish the moments he wasn’t so alone.

Alfred was keeping himself busy, moving from place to place in his own country, performing the tasks assigned to him and attending meetings, while also looking up a few psychiatrists in Ivan’s area and periodically mentioning them during their calls. Some, he explained, could offer Ivan home visits if he wanted them. Ivan wasn’t sure. Eventually, Ivan managed to work up the nerve to contact his boss and explained the need or a therapist for himself in particularly vague terms and his boss agreed.

Ivan sat with his back pressed against the hard yet cushioned chairs. His nose was buried in his scarf, hiding his embarrassment and disappointment with himself. Alfred told him many times that he shouldn’t be ashamed. There is nothing wrong with finding a little bit of help. Alfred had even mentioned that maybe he could use a bit of therapy himself. However, today was about Ivan. No one spoke in the waiting room aside from the receptionist who spoke quietly on the telephone, making an appointment for a girl Ivan had no interest in hearing about. Alfred waited beside him, his hand closed around Ivan’s. He quietly read a magazine that had clearly been from three years before. There is no telling how old they all were since the new magazines were stacked upon the older ones. The upholstery with appalling and the carpet looked worse. Ivan wanted nothing more than to go home.

“I want to leave,” Ivan muttered in a low voice, just loud enough for Alfred to hear.

Alfred glanced up from his magazine, “I know, but you’ve got to start somewhere. Just ask them a few questions, see how they work and if they’re good for you, and if not, we can look for someone else,”

Ivan squeezed Alfred’s hand as the receptionist called on an older man and allowed him to walk down the hall toward the physiatrist’s office. Alfred chuckled quietly and returned Ivan’s tight grip with a smaller squeeze, “You’re alright. It wasn’t you just yet,”

“I want to go home… I can take care of myself,” Ivan grumbled.

“Ivan,” Alfred frowned, “You’ve done that for centuries and you know that didn’t work out well… What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not…” Ivan’s voice became small as he realized what he was trying to do.

“Please don’t lie, babe,” Alfred sighed, “Everything is already planned out. If you like this therapist than the government comes in and explains that they’ll need to prepare to hear some pretty insane things. Mental health professionals aren’t allowed to disclose any information. We’ll make sure they’ll try to understand what you’re telling them,”

“Okay…” Ivan said, thankful that Alfred had managed to address his fears and comfort him, “I’ll be okay,” An hour passed in silence as Ivan read magazines over Alfred’s shoulder.

“Ivan Braginski?” a voice rang out, breaking the silence of the room.

Alfred squeezed Ivan’s hand ever so slightly and then let go in favor of padding his boyfriend on the knee. "That’s you,” Alfred said in a chipper tone with tender smile on his lips, “Good luck,”

Ivan nodded, stood, and walked over to the hall that led to the psychiatrist’s office door. Before he entered, he turned to look back and smiled at Alfred. Ivan would do anything for Alfred. Ivan loved him and would get better for him and himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you all for sticking around and continuing to read each chapter. You comments and kudos have meant so much to me. I'm honestly still surprised by the attention this has received. Thank you again and I hope you all enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> _Most people are smaller than him or make themselves smaller in Russia's presence. I always sort of thought than once the other countries began leaving the Soviet Union, they were able to tell him why they feared him so much and this resonated with Russia. It made him realize that he's been scaring and harming them and he developed a fear for things and people he can break, even if he loves them._
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> I'd love to hear any comments you might have. They are very much appreciated.


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